Ghillie Dhu in Poetry

Though Solitary they would like to stay

They may help those who lose their way

But don’t misjudge these dark-haired fae

Or you’ll be the one that they betray!

Hiding their green skin and hazel eyes

Moss and leaves are their disguise

Entering their forest would be unwise

Offend them and get a big surprise

~ Morrigan Aoife


Wrought from star-dolven iron

Quenched in sap of the Beithe

Was Tiodhlac: Gift of the Ghillie Dhu

Young Duncan took care of the old birch wood,

Kept poachers and oxmen at bay,

Gaining the love of the beithe-bound Ghillie Dhu

When Young Duncan, his-love sworn abducted,

For the jealousy of wicked Black Donald,

Sorrow and pity was the old Ghillie Dhu.

For Poor Young Duncan, No sword to his name

And the might of Black Donald, No earthly man dare

Had need of the dwimmer – crafty, the clever Ghillie Dhu

Ancient Hammer bows thundering in the hoar

Echoing in leafy halls,

Came forth the fae – deadly blade of Ghillie Dhu

Cold black Iron, Heaven-born

Shimmering veins star – silver bright,

Bold was the hilt;

Tiodhlac: Gift of the Ghillie Dhu

~ Scott Roush


Ghillie Dhu.
Forests lie deep and dark with never ending looping paths,
Known only to those who dwell within and live their lives
In undergrowth and leaf litter fallen from tree tops high,
Like a carpet of leaf upon the ground shielding voles and little mice,
Where squirrels search and leap from intertwining branch,
In endless search for nuts to bury in the ground,
Saved for winters harshest time if only they could remember where?
Brightly plumaged jays may steal them for themselves,
As dusk descends on woody hall as crows and rooks circle,
Cushat –doos languid cooing a nightly lullaby,
Watching with wary eye the foxes as they prowl,
Badgers also brought out with promise of midnight feast.
Worms and grubs wriggle around lit by moon light ray,
Through the gloom stealthly walks like regal procession,
A group of red brown deer, great tines a top the head,
Crowning glory of king stag glinting with nightly dew,
Always alert watching and listening for the slightest sound,
Behind an ancient oak eyes watching them in grace pass by,
His hood drawn over his head ,his coat of leafy hue,
Fae light twinkles in his eyes breathing low and still,
The watcher of the woods is out protecting all those lost,
Showing the paths and trails to follow home to safety,
From out of wooded maze that confuses a strangers thought.
His name is spoken of in whispers and some fear,
Amongst the folk of villages and duns close to Celidon wood,
His aim is harmless and to help those in need and lead them away,
From harm and possible doom.
Ghillie Dhu is his name the spirit of the woods ,
Under midnight star collecting nuts and grains,
Mushrooms eaten as a snack as he wanders ,
With eyes sparkling bright observing all within,
Watching them all caring for them all,
A special guest at the Butterfly Ball.

Andrew McIntyre


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